Pac-Man,bow,Apple,chest,six pack,nail,tornado,Mickey Mouse,Youtube,lightning,traffic light,waterfall,McDonalds,Donald Trump,Patrick,stop sign,Superman,tooth,sunflower,keyboard,island,Pikachu,Harry Potter,Nintendo Switch,Facebook,eyebrow,Peppa Pig,SpongeBob,Creeper,octopus,church,Eiffel tower,tongue,snowflake,fish,Twitter,pan,Jesus Christ,butt cheeks,jail,Pepsi,hospital,pregnant,thunderstorm,smile,skull,flower,palm tree,Angry Birds,America,lips,cloud,compass,mustache,Captain America,pimple,Easter Bunny,chicken,Elmo,watch,prison,skeleton,arrow,volcano,Minion,school,tie,lighthouse,fountain,Cookie Monster,Iron Man,Santa,blood,river,bar,Mount Everest,chest hair,Gumball,north,water,cactus,treehouse,bridge,short,thumb,beach,mountain,Nike,flag,Paris,eyelash,Shrek,brain,iceberg,fingernail,playground,ice cream,Google,dead,knife,spoon,unibrow,Spiderman,black,graveyard,elbow,golden egg,yellow,Germany,Adidas,nose hair,Deadpool,Homer Simpson,Bart Simpson,rainbow,ruler,building,raindrop,storm,coffee shop,windmill,fidget spinner,yo-yo,ice,legs,tent,mouth,ocean,Fanta,homeless,tablet,muscle,Pinocchio,tear,nose,snow,nostrils,Olaf,belly button,Lion King,car wash,Egypt,Statue of Liberty,Hello Kitty,pinky,Winnie the Pooh,guitar,Hulk,Grinch,Nutella,cold,flagpole,Canada,rainforest,blue,rose,tree,hot,mailbox,Nemo,crab,knee,doghouse,Chrome,cotton candy,Barack Obama,hot chocolate,Michael Jackson,map,Samsung,shoulder,Microsoft,parking,forest,full moon,cherry blossom,apple seed,Donald Duck,leaf,bat,earwax,Italy,finger,seed,lilypad,brush,record,wrist,thunder,gummy,Kirby,fire hydrant,overweight,hot dog,house,fork,pink,Sonic,street,Nasa,arm,fast,tunnel,full,library,pet shop,Yoshi,Russia,drum kit,Android,Finn and Jake,price tag,Tooth Fairy,bus stop,rain,heart,face,tower,bank,cheeks,Batman,speaker,Thor,skinny,electric guitar,belly,cute,ice cream truck,bubble gum,top hat,Pink Panther,hand,bald,freckles,clover,armpit,Japan,thin,traffic,spaghetti,Phineas and Ferb,broken heart,fingertip,funny,poisonous,Wonder Woman,Squidward,Mark Zuckerberg,twig,red,China,dream,Dora,daisy,France,Discord,toenail,positive,forehead,earthquake,iron,Zeus,Mercedes,Big Ben,supermarket,Bugs Bunny,Yin and Yang,drink,rock,drum,piano,white,bench,fall,royal,seashell,Audi,stomach,aquarium,Bitcoin,volleyball,marshmallow,Cat Woman,underground,Green Lantern,bottle flip,toothbrush,globe,sand,zoo,west,puddle,lobster,North Korea,Luigi,bamboo,Great Wall,Kim Jong-un,bad,credit card,swimming pool,Wolverine,head,hair,Yoda,Elsa,turkey,heel,maracas,clean,droplet,cinema,poor,stamp,Africa,whistle,Teletubby,wind,Aladdin,tissue box,fire truck,Usain Bolt,water gun,farm,iPad,well,warm,booger,WhatsApp,Skype,landscape,pine cone,Mexico,slow,organ,fish bowl,teddy bear,John Cena,Frankenstein,tennis racket,gummy bear,Mount Rushmore,swing,Mario,lake,point,vein,cave,smell,chin,desert,scary,Dracula,airport,kiwi,seaweed,incognito,Pluto,statue,hairy,strawberry,low,invisible,blindfold,tuna,controller,Paypal,King Kong,neck,lung,weather,Xbox,tiny,icicle,flashlight,scissors,emoji,strong,saliva,firefighter,salmon,basketball,spring,Tarzan,red carpet,drain,coral reef,nose ring,caterpillar,Wall-e,seat belt,polar bear,Scooby Doo,wave,sea,grass,pancake,park,lipstick,pickaxe,east,grenade,village,Flash,throat,dizzy,Asia,petal,Gru,country,spaceship,restaurant,copy,skin,glue stick,Garfield,equator,blizzard,golden apple,Robin Hood,fast food,barbed wire,Bill Gates,Tower of Pisa,neighborhood,lightsaber,video game,high heels,dirty,flamethrower,pencil sharpener,hill,old,flute,cheek,violin,fireball,spine,bathtub,cell phone,breath,open,Australia,toothpaste,Tails,skyscraper,cowbell,rib,ceiling fan,Eminem,Jimmy Neutron,photo frame,barn,sandstorm,Jackie Chan,Abraham Lincoln,T-rex,pot of gold,KFC,shell,poison,acne,avocado,study,bandana,England,Medusa,scar,Skittles,Pokemon,branch,Dumbo,factory,Hollywood,deep,knuckle,popular,piggy bank,Las Vegas,microphone,Tower Bridge,butterfly,slide,hut,shovel,hamburger,shop,fort,Ikea,planet,border,panda,highway,swamp,tropical,lightbulb,Kermit,headphones,jungle,Reddit,young,trumpet,cheeseburger,gas mask,apartment,manhole,nutcracker,Antarctica,mansion,bunk bed,sunglasses,spray paint,Jack-o-lantern,saltwater,tank,cliff,campfire,palm,pumpkin,elephant,banjo,nature,alley,fireproof,earbuds,crossbow,Elon Musk,quicksand,Playstation,Hawaii,good,corn dog,Gandalf,dock,magic wand,field,Solar System,photograph,ukulele,James Bond,The Beatles,Katy Perry,pirate ship,Poseidon,Netherlands,photographer,Lego,hourglass,glass,path,hotel,ramp,dandelion,Brazil,coral,cigarette,messy,Dexter,valley,parachute,wine glass,matchbox,Morgan Freeman,black hole,midnight,astronaut,paper bag,sand castle,forest fire,hot sauce,social media,William Shakespeare,trash can,fire alarm,lawn mower,nail polish,Band-Aid,Star Wars,clothes hanger,toe,mud,coconut,jaw,bomb,south,firework,sailboat,loading,iPhone,toothpick,BMW,ketchup,fossil,explosion,Finn,Einstein,infinite,dictionary,Photoshop,trombone,clarinet,rubber,saxophone,helicopter,temperature,bus driver,cello,London,newspaper,blackberry,shopping cart,Florida,Daffy Duck,mayonnaise,gummy worm,flying pig,underweight,Crash Bandicoot,bungee jumping,kindergarten,umbrella,hammer,night,laser,glove,square,Morty,firehouse,dynamite,chainsaw,melon,waist,Chewbacca,kidney,stoned,Rick,ticket,skateboard,microwave,television,soil,exam,cocktail,India,Colosseum,missile,hilarious,Popeye,nuke,silo,chemical,museum,Vault boy,adorable,fast forward,firecracker,grandmother,Porky Pig,roadblock,continent,wrinkle,shaving cream,Northern Lights,tug,London Eye,Israel,shipwreck,xylophone,motorcycle,diamond,root,coffee,princess,Oreo,goldfish,wizard,chocolate,garbage,ladybug,shotgun,kazoo,Minecraft,video,message,lily,fisherman,cucumber,password,western,ambulance,doorknob,glowstick,makeup,barbecue,jazz,hedgehog,bark,tombstone,coast,pitchfork,Christmas,opera,office,insect,hunger,download,hairbrush,blueberry,cookie jar,canyon,Happy Meal,high five,fern,quarter,peninsula,imagination,microscope,table tennis,whisper,fly swatter,pencil case,harmonica,Family Guy,New Zealand,apple pie,warehouse,cookie,USB,jellyfish,bubble,battery,fireman,pizza,angry,taco,harp,alcohol,pound,bedtime,megaphone,husband,oval,rail,stab,dwarf,milkshake,witch,bakery,president,weak,second,sushi,mall,complete,hip hop,slippery,horizon,prawn,plumber,blowfish,Madagascar,Europe,bazooka,pogo stick,Terminator,Hercules,notification,snowball fight,high score,Kung Fu,Lady Gaga,geography,sledgehammer,bear trap,sky,cheese,vine,clown,catfish,snowman,bowl,waffle,vegetable,hook,shadow,dinosaur,lane,dance,scarf,cabin,Tweety,bookshelf,swordfish,skyline,base,straw,biscuit,Greece,bleach,pepper,reflection,universe,skateboarder,triplets,gold chain,electric car,policeman,electricity,mother,Bambi,croissant,Ireland,sandbox,stadium,depressed,Johnny Bravo,silverware,raspberry,dandruff,Scotland,comic book,cylinder,Milky Way,taxi driver,magic trick,sunrise,popcorn,eat,cola,cake,pond,mushroom,rocket,surfboard,baby,cape,glasses,sunburn,chef,gate,charger,crack,mohawk,triangle,carpet,dessert,taser,afro,cobra,ringtone,cockroach,levitate,mailman,rockstar,lyrics,grumpy,stand,Norway,binoculars,nightclub,puppet,novel,injection,thief,pray,chandelier,exercise,lava lamp,lap,massage,thermometer,golf cart,postcard,bell pepper,bed bug,paintball,Notch,yogurt,graffiti,burglar,butler,seafood,Sydney Opera House,Susan Wojcicki,parents,bed sheet,Leonardo da Vinci,intersection,palace,shrub,lumberjack,relationship,observatory,junk food,eye,log,dice,bicycle,pineapple,camera,circle,lemonade,soda,comb,cube,Doritos,love,table,honey,lighter,broccoli,fireplace,drive,Titanic,backpack,emerald,giraffe,world,internet,kitten,volume,Spain,daughter,armor,noob,rectangle,driver,raccoon,bacon,lady,bull,camping,poppy,snowball,farmer,lasso,breakfast,oxygen,milkman,caveman,laboratory,bandage,neighbor,Cupid,Sudoku,wedding,seagull,spatula,atom,dew,fortress,vegetarian,ivy,snowboard,conversation,treasure,chopsticks,garlic,vacuum,swimsuit,divorce,advertisement,vuvuzela,Mr Bean,Fred Flintstone,pet food,upgrade,voodoo,punishment,Charlie Chaplin,Rome,graduation,beatbox,communism,yeti,ear,dots,octagon,kite,lion,winner,muffin,cupcake,unicorn,smoke,lime,monster,Mars,moss,summer,lollipop,coffin,paint,lottery,wife,pirate,sandwich,lantern,seahorse,Cuba,archer,sweat,deodorant,plank,Steam,birthday,submarine,zombie,casino,gas,stove,helmet,mosquito,ponytail,corpse,subway,spy,jump rope,baguette,grin,centipede,gorilla,website,text,workplace,bookmark,anglerfish,wireless,Zorro,sports,abstract,detective,Amsterdam,elevator,chimney,reindeer,Singapore,perfume,soldier,bodyguard,magnifier,freezer,radiation,assassin,yawn,backbone,disaster,giant,pillow fight,grasshopper,Vin Diesel,geyser,burrito,celebrity,Lasagna,Pumba,karaoke,hypnotize,platypus,Leonardo DiCaprio,bird bath,battleship,back pain,rapper,werewolf,Black Friday,cathedral,Sherlock Holmes,ABBA,hard hat,sword,mirror,toilet,eggplant,jelly,hero,starfish,bread,snail,person,plunger,computer,nosebleed,goat,joker,sponge,mop,owl,beef,portal,genie,crocodile,murderer,magic,pine,winter,robber,pepperoni,shoebox,fog,screen,son,folder,mask,Goofy,Mercury,zipline,wall,dragonfly,zipper,meatball,slingshot,Pringles,circus,mammoth,nugget,mousetrap,recycling,revolver,champion,zigzag,meat,drought,vodka,notepad,porcupine,tuba,hacker,broomstick,kitchen,cheesecake,satellite,JayZ,squirrel,leprechaun,jello,gangster,raincoat,eyeshadow,shopping,gardener,scythe,portrait,jackhammer,allergy,honeycomb,headache,Miniclip,Mona Lisa,cheetah,virtual reality,virus,Argentina,blanket,military,headband,superpower,language,handshake,reptile,thirst,fake teeth,duct tape,macaroni,color-blind,comfortable,Robbie Rotten,coast guard,cab driver,pistachio,Angelina Jolie,autograph,sea lion,Morse code,clickbait,star,girl,lemon,alarm,shoe,soap,button,kiss,grave,telephone,fridge,katana,switch,eraser,signature,pasta,flamingo,crayon,puzzle,hard,juice,socks,crystal,telescope,galaxy,squid,tattoo,bowling,lamb,silver,lid,taxi,basket,step,stapler,pigeon,zoom,teacher,holiday,score,Tetris,frame,garden,stage,unicycle,cream,sombrero,error,battle,starfruit,hamster,chalk,spiral,bounce,hairspray,lizard,victory,balance,hexagon,Ferrari,MTV,network,weapon,fist fight,vault,mattress,viola,birch,stereo,Jenga,plug,chihuahua,plow,pavement,wart,ribbon,otter,magazine,Bomberman,vaccine,elder,Romania,champagne,semicircle,Suez Canal,Mr Meeseeks,villain,inside,spade,gravedigger,Bruce Lee,gentle,stingray,can opener,funeral,jet ski,wheelbarrow,thug,undo,fabulous,space suit,cappuccino,Minotaur,skydiving,cheerleader,Stone Age,Chinatown,razorblade,crawl space,cauldron,trick shot,Steve Jobs,audience,time machine,sewing machine,face paint,truck driver,x-ray,fly,salt,spider,boy,dollar,turtle,book,chain,dolphin,sing,milk,wing,pencil,snake,scream,toast,vomit,salad,radio,potion,dominoes,balloon,monkey,trophy,feather,leash,loser,bite,notebook,happy,Mummy,sneeze,koala,tired,sick,pipe,jalapeno,diaper,deer,priest,youtuber,boomerang,pro,ruby,hop,hopscotch,barcode,vote,wrench,tissue,doll,clownfish,halo,Monday,tentacle,grid,Uranus,oil,scarecrow,tarantula,germ,glow,haircut,Vatican,tape,judge,cell,diagonal,science,mustard,fur,janitor,ballerina,pike,nun,chime,tuxedo,Cerberus,panpipes,surface,coal,knot,willow,pajamas,fizz,student,eclipse,asteroid,Portugal,pigsty,brand,crowbar,chimpanzee,Chuck Norris,raft,carnival,treadmill,professor,tricycle,apocalypse,vitamin,orchestra,groom,cringe,knight,litter box,macho,brownie,hummingbird,Hula Hoop,motorbike,type,catapult,take off,wake up,concert,floppy disk,BMX,bulldozer,manicure,brainwash,William Wallace,guinea pig,motherboard,wheel,brick,egg,lava,queen,gold,God,ladder,coin,laptop,toaster,butter,bag,doctor,sit,tennis,half,Bible,noodle,golf,eagle,cash,vampire,sweater,father,remote,safe,jeans,darts,graph,nothing,dagger,stone,wig,cupboard,minute,match,slime,garage,tomb,soup,bathroom,llama,shampoo,swan,frown,toolbox,jacket,adult,crate,quill,spin,waiter,mint,kangaroo,captain,loot,maid,shoelace,luggage,cage,bagpipes,loaf,aircraft,shelf,safari,afterlife,napkin,steam,coach,slope,marigold,Mozart,bumper,Asterix,vanilla,papaya,ostrich,failure,scoop,tangerine,firefly,centaur,harbor,uniform,Beethoven,Intel,moth,Spartacus,fluid,acid,sparkles,talent show,ski jump,polo,ravioli,delivery,woodpecker,logo,Stegosaurus,diss track,Darwin Watterson,filmmaker,silence,dashboard,echo,windshield,Home Alone,tablecloth,backflip,headboard,licorice,sunshade,Picasso,airbag,water cycle,meatloaf,insomnia,broom,whale,pie,demon,bed,braces,fence,orange,sleep,gift,Popsicle,spear,zebra,Saturn,maze,chess,wire,angel,skates,pyramid,shower,claw,hell,goal,bottle,dress,walk,AC/DC,tampon,goatee,prince,flask,cut,cord,roof,movie,ash,tiger,player,magician,wool,saddle,cowboy,derp,suitcase,sugar,nest,anchor,onion,magma,limbo,collar,mole,bingo,walnut,wealth,security,leader,melt,Gandhi,arch,toy,turd,scientist,hippo,glue,kneel,orbit,below,totem,health,towel,diet,crow,addiction,minigolf,clay,boar,navy,butcher,trigger,referee,bruise,translate,yearbook,confused,engine,poke,wreath,omelet,gravity,bride,godfather,flu,accordion,engineer,cocoon,minivan,bean bag,antivirus,billiards,rake,cement,cauliflower,espresso,violence,blender,chew,bartender,witness,hobbit,corkscrew,chameleon,cymbal,Excalibur,grapefruit,action,outside,guillotine,timpani,frostbite,leave,Mont Blanc,palette,electrician,fitness trainer,journalist,fashion designer,bucket,penguin,sheep,torch,robot,peanut,UFO,belt,Earth,magnet,dragon,soccer,desk,search,seal,scribble,gender,food,anvil,crust,bean,hockey,pot,pretzel,needle,blimp,plate,drool,frog,basement,idea,bracelet,cork,sauce,gang,sprinkler,shout,morning,poodle,karate,bagel,wolf,sausage,heat,wasp,calendar,tadpole,religion,hose,sleeve,acorn,sting,market,marble,comet,pain,cloth,drawer,orca,hurdle,pinball,narwhal,pollution,metal,race,end,razor,dollhouse,distance,prism,pub,lotion,vanish,vulture,beanie,burp,periscope,cousin,customer,label,mold,kebab,beaver,spark,meme,pudding,almond,mafia,gasp,nightmare,mermaid,season,gasoline,evening,eel,cast,hive,beetle,diploma,jeep,bulge,wrestler,Anubis,mascot,spinach,hieroglyph,anaconda,handicap,walrus,blacksmith,robin,reception,invasion,fencing,sphinx,evolution,brunette,traveler,jaguar,diagram,hovercraft,parade,dome,credit,tow truck,shallow,vlogger,veterinarian,furniture,commercial,cyborg,scent,defense,accident,marathon,demonstration,NASCAR,Velociraptor,pharmacist,Xerox,gentleman,dough,rhinoceros,air conditioner,poop,clock,carrot,cherry,candle,boots,target,wine,die,moon,airplane,think,pause,pill,pocket,Easter,horse,child,lamp,pillow,yolk,potato,pickle,nurse,ham,ninja,screw,board,pin,lettuce,console,climb,goose,bill,tortoise,sink,ski,glitter,miner,parrot,clap,spit,wiggle,peacock,roll,ballet,ceiling,celebrate,blind,yacht,addition,flock,powder,paddle,harpoon,kraken,baboon,antenna,classroom,bronze,writer,Obelix,touch,sensei,rest,puma,dent,shake,goblin,laundry,cloak,detonate,Neptune,cotton,generator,canary,horsewhip,racecar,Croatia,tip,cardboard,commander,seasick,anthill,vinegar,hippie,dentist,animation,Slinky,wallpaper,pendulum,vertical,chestplate,anime,beanstalk,survivor,florist,faucet,spore,risk,wonderland,wrestling,hazelnut,cushion,W-LAN,mayor,community,raisin,udder,oyster,sew,hazard,curry,pastry,mime,victim,mechanic,hibernate,bouncer,Iron Giant,floodlight,pear,sad,paw,space,bullet,
skribbl.io,shirt,cow,worm,king,tea,truck,pants,hashtag,DNA,bird,Monster,beer,curtain,tire,nachos,bear,cricket,teapot,nerd,deaf,fruit,meteorite,rice,sniper,sale,gnome,shock,shape,alligator,meal,nickel,party,hurt,Segway,Mr. Bean,banker,cartoon,double,hammock,juggle,pope,leak,room,throne,hoof,radar,wound,luck,swag,panther,flush,Venus,disease,fortune,porch,machine,pilot,copper,mantis,keg,biology,wax,gloss,leech,sculpture,pelican,trapdoor,plague,quilt,yardstick,lounge,teaspoon,broadcast,uncle,comedian,mannequin,peasant,streamer,oar,drama,cornfield,carnivore,wingnut,vent,cabinet,vacation,applause,vision,radish,picnic,Skrillex,jester,preach,armadillo,hyena,librarian,interview,sauna,surgeon,dishrag,manatee,symphony,queue,industry,Atlantis,excavator,canister,model,flight attendant,ghost,pig,key,banana,tomato,axe,line,present,duck,alien,peas,gem,web,grapes,corn,can,fairy,camel,paper,beak,corner,penny,dig,link,donkey,fox,rug,drip,hunter,horn,purse,gumball,pony,musket,flea,kettle,rooster,balcony,seesaw,stork,dinner,greed,bait,duel,trap,heist,origami,skunk,coaster,leather,socket,fireside,cannon,ram,filter,alpaca,Zelda,condiment,server,antelope,emu,chestnut,dalmatian,swarm,sloth,reality,Darwin,torpedo,toucan,pedal,tabletop,frosting,bellow,vortex,bayonet,margarine,orchid,beet,journey,slam,marmalade,employer,stylus,spoiler,repeat,tiramisu,cuckoo,collapse,eskimo,assault,orangutan,wrapping,albatross,mothball,evaporate,turnip,puffin,reeds,receptionist,impact,dispenser,nutshell,procrastination,architect,programmer,bricklayer,boat,bell,ring,fries,money,chair,door,bee,tail,ball,mouse,rat,window,peace,nut,blush,page,toad,hug,ace,tractor,peach,whisk,hen,day,shy,lawyer,rewind,tripod,trailer,hermit,welder,festival,punk,handle,protest,lens,attic,foil,promotion,work,limousine,patriot,badger,studio,athlete,quokka,trend,pinwheel,gravel,fabric,lemur,provoke,rune,display,nail file,embers,asymmetry,actor,carpenter,aristocrat,Zuma,chinchilla,archaeologist,apple,hat,sun,box,cat,cup,train,bunny,sound,run,barrel,barber,grill,read,family,moose,boil,printer,poster,sledge,nutmeg,heading,cruise,pillar,retail,monk,spool,catalog,scuba,anteater,pensioner,coyote,vise,bobsled,purity,tailor,meerkat,weasel,invention,lynx,kendama,zeppelin,patient,gladiator,slump,Capricorn,baklava,prune,stress,crucible,hitchhiker,election,caviar,marmot,hair roller,pistol,cone,ant,lock,hanger,cap,Mr. Meeseeks,comedy,coat,tourist,tickle,facade,shrew,diva,patio,apricot,spelunker,parakeet,barbarian,tumor,figurine,desperate,landlord,bus,mug,dog,shark,abyss,betray
This is long, so grab a cup of coffee, tea, or whatever keeps you happy and reading.
I live in a senior housing community for people aged 55 and older. We all have identical 1-bedroom cottages that’s set up in groups of four or quads so that all of our front doors face inward toward each other. So, if I open my front door, I have a very clear view of the front doors of my 3 neighbors and because I am in the back of this quad, I also have a view of the parking area. I think the purpose of grouping the houses this way was to create a friendly and safe atmosphere; however, it’s just creepy in a “you have no privacy” kind of way.
I am F57, disabled, and have a 16-year-old pickup truck that gets me where I need to go most of the time. If you’ve ever owned a pickup truck, you’ll understand my frustration. If you haven’t owned one, talk to anyone who has and they will tell you that according to friends, family, acquaintances, neighbors, and even complete strangers, you have it so that you can help them move, haul furniture or a tree they cut down, and anything else they can’t fit in the trunk of their car. AND because it is a pickup truck, it can be mistreated, abused, dented, scratched, beaten up, and treated like a piece of heavy construction equipment and you shouldn’t care because well. . . it’s a truck.
I have a neighbor (F - about 65 years old) that has kind of made a pest of herself since the day I moved in. I’ve done my best to be neighborly, nice, and accommodating, but each time I interact with her, I’m left feeling used. The neighbor, let's call her Karen, has come over pretending to want to visit with me, which she does for about 2 minutes, and then asks me for something. In the 3 years that I’ve been here, she’s asked me to set up 2 TVs (at different times), take a new alarm clock out of its packaging and then teach her how to operate it. I’ve been asked to fill out her food stamp paperwork, fill out information for her lease renewal, read a piece of mail to her and explain it because she didn’t understand it, to take her places and to “loan” her money for the bus. That’s just a few.
Now that you get the idea of what I’ve dealt with before, it’s time for the story.
One Monday morning, Karen comes beating on my door (she does what I call a “cop knock” – loud, hard, and repeated) around 8 a.m., waking me up. (I am a night owl, by the way.) I go to the door and she is standing there holding her natural gas bill telling me how she needed a ride to the gas company's office to talk to them about paying the bill and hands me the bill. I look at it, hoping to find a phone number for her to call, but there isn't one, but I do see that her bill is for about $17. So, I take her across town with her providing the directions since I had never been to this building (the gas company did not have an office in town, so I guess this was maybe a payment center). I drop her at the front, park, and wait for her. Karen comes out saying that they can't help her there and asks me if she should just call them to make arrangements to make payments since she didn't have the money. I tell her that's what I would do and bring her back home. We basically made this trip for nothing.
Two days later, there is another loud, repeated banging on my door waking me up just before 9 a.m. Karen is back and seems to be a little frantic. She needs a ride again. This time she's very vague about why she wants to go, but left me with the impression that something was going to get turned off, repossessed, or turned over to collections if she didn't go. She's also vague as to where she wants to go. She keeps tell me that it's down by the casino, across the street from the gas station. I told her I'd take her but she would have to point me in the right direction since I've never been to the casino. She gives me turn by turn directions until she has me turn left onto the entrance road for the casino. I'm looking around for any other businesses or even the gas station and I'm not seeing anything other than the casino in front of us and open land on either side. So, I ask her where am I supposed to be dropping her. Karen points to an upcoming sign and says, "See the sign that says 'Valet'? Just follow that sign." Yep, you guessed it, Karen had me drop her at the front entrance to the casino. She'd lied to me by omission. She didn't ask me to take her to the casino (which I would probably have done since it's none of my business how she spends her money), she asked me to take her to a business near the casino. Yeah, well, I wasn't happy. On Monday she couldn't afford to pay her $17 gas bill and on Wednesday she's going to the casino by tricking me into taking her.
A week goes by and I am in the office paying my rent when Karen comes in.
Karen: Why didn’t you tell me you were coming here today. Girl, I just walked all the way here.
Me: Didn’t know you needed a ride. I can give you a ride back to the house if you would like.
I wait while Karen pays her rent and we walk out together. Now, I’m expecting to get in my truck and drive the 4 blocks back to my house. Karen had another idea.
Karen: Take me to Everything’s Cheap store.
Me: Where?
Karen: To Everything’s Cheap. Just turn here at the stop sign and I’ll show you. It’s not far.
Me: Karen, I’m going to take you there, but I’m not shopping and I’m not going to sit in the parking lot and wait for you. You’ll have to get another ride home or walk.
Karen: It’s fine. I won’t be long.
I drop her at the front door and I go home. A couple of hours later, she bangs on my door.
Karen: Where did my ride go?
Me: Home. I told you that I wasn’t going to wait for you.
Karen: I had all my stuff that I had to carry home. Now my back hurts.
Me: I’m sorry, but I warned you.
Karen walks away muttering things that I didn’t understand and slammed her door.
Skip ahead several months and I run into Karen again as I am paying my rent. She wants me to give her a ride to the Social Security office. I tell her that I can't as my truck is not running right and I can't get too far from home in it until I get it check out and fixed. My truck started having issues and it's been difficult trying to get it fixed with lock-down, a back issue that left me bedridden for several weeks, and 2 major hurricanes this year (there’s nothing major wrong with the truck - just needs a new starter and gaskets to fix an oil leak that's caused the starter to go bad).
Karen: But it's just a few blocks away and it's hot out here.
Me: I can't trust my truck not to leave me stranded with no way to get it home.
Karen: It will be fine.
Me: Maybe, but I'm not willing to risk it.
Karen slaps the side of my truck and continues on her walk and I go home in my truck.
Another 3 days go by and more banging on my door and again I am awakened (it's 7:15 a.m.). This time I'm angry and I snatched the door open.
Me: What?
Karen (standing there with her purse and house keys in her hand as if she knows I'll say yes): I need to go to the mattress store. I need to pick up my new queen size mattress.
Me: No. My truck still isn't running right.
Karen: But I need your truck to haul the mattress home.
Me: No.
Karen: It's not a heavy mattress.
Me: Oh, so who’s going to help you get it in and out of my truck and carry it into your house?
Karen: The two of us can do it.
Me: Karen, I have degenerative disk disease. The disks in my spine are disintegrating. I can't lift nor carry a mattress even with someone helping.
Karen: But I already bought it. How am I going to get it home?
Me: Call friends or family to help you.
Karen: They don't have a truck and you do!
Me: Yes, I have a truck, but there is no sign anywhere on it that says Free Moving Company.
I close the door on her and go back to bed. An hour later, more knocking. This time, it's an older man.
Man 1: Excuse me, but is that your truck? (He points at my truck in the parking lot.)
Me: Yes.
Man 1: I have an upright piano I need to move and was wondering if I could use your truck.
Me: No. (I glance over at the neighbor's house and I see her peeking through a crack in her door - I have a sneaking suspicion she has put this guy up to this to see if I would help him.)
Man 1: You can drive the truck. I just need to have the piano hauled to my storage unit.
Me: How are you going to get an upright piano into the bed of my truck?
Man 1: I'll just roll it up a ramp and into the back.
Me: Do you know how much an upright piano weighs? One person can't push it up a ramp. If you use a ramp on my tailgate, you will break the tailgate and probably lose the piano in the process. My truck is large, but the rear end is not made for hauling a piano and will cause the front end to lift off the ground preventing my front wheel drive truck from gaining traction and straining my 16-year-old engine.
Man 1: Well, could you call 4 or 5 of your male friends to help lift it into the back of the truck?
Me: No!
I close the door on this man, too. He didn’t come right out and say it, but I felt like he wanted to borrow my truck so he could go pick up the mattress for Karen. Yeah, I’m a little suspicious.
The following morning . . . *sigh* . . . I ignore the knocking that occurs every half hour or so over a 3-hour period until she finally gives up. Later that afternoon, I open my door to get the mail out of my box when a second man approaches me out of nowhere. It’s like he was hiding around the corner waiting for me to come out of my house.
Man 2 (points at my truck - it irritates me every time someone does this): Is that your truck?
Me (feeling very annoyed and snarky): What gave it away? Is it because it's parked in a space clearly labeled with my house number? Or is it because someone told you who the truck belonged to? (I point at Karen's house.)
Man 2: Does it run?
Me: Listen, I don't know what you're wanting me pick up, deliver, move, haul, transport, or tow, but I am not a moving company, taxi, uber, delivery service, or a tow truck. I won't be doing any of those things and before you ask, I won't be allowing you or anyone else to drive my truck either. Now, do you have any other questions?
Man 2: Uh, do you want to sell it?
Me: What?! Why would I want to sell it?
Man 2: Well, since it needs fixing, I thought maybe you would want to sell it to someone who could afford to fix it.
Me: How do you know it needs fixing?
Man 2 (turns bright red and can't take his eyes off ground): I just thought if you sold it, you could buy something else and I could fix the truck.
Me: Tell Karen that I'm not selling you my truck so that you can fix it to give to her.
Man 2: I wasn't going to give it to her.
Me (pointing at his huge truck parked in Karen's designated space): You want me to believe that you would rather have my 16-year-old truck that needs repair than your brand-new truck? How stupid do you think I am?
As the older man silently stares at the ground, Karen flings her door open and marches up to me.
Karen: Just sell him your truck so he can fix it. You clearly aren't going to do it any time soon. At least I will put it to good use. I need it and I need it more than you apparently do. Now, he’s willing to get it fixed for me, so just sell him the damn truck already!
Me: My truck is not for sale! When or if I get my truck fixed is absolutely none of your business.
Karen: I’m going to call the office and tell them that you have a broken-down truck sitting in the parking lot that needs to be hauled to the junk yard. They’ll make you get rid of it or fix it.
Man 2: Karen, they can’t do anything to her . . .
Karen cuts him off. She’s so angry, she’s crying, shaking, and spitting as she screams
Karen: SHUT UP! STAY OUT OF THIS. I WANT THAT TRUCK AND I’M GOING TO GET IT! I’LL CALL THE POLICE. THEY WILL MAKE HER GET RID OF IT.
Man 2: Karen, the police aren’t . . .
She cuts him off again.
Karen: YES, THEY WILL. THEY'LL LISTEN TO ME.
She storms off to call the police. In the meantime, I brought a chair outside along with a can of soda and a bowl of microwave popcorn. I figured this was going to be a good show. Karen and Man 2 have gone inside her house to wait. The neighbor to my left has come out to see what’s going on. Let’s call her Mary. Mary can’t stand Karen, so she drags a chair out and sits next to me and we share my popcorn.
Enter Cop 1 and Cop 2
The cops arrive in about 5-6 minutes and walk up to Karen’s door and knock while glancing around at Mary and me and grinning. She answers and tells them that I have created an eyesore in the neighborhood by having an old beat up, broken-down truck sitting in the parking lot and she wants it removed immediately.
Cop 1 (pointing at my truck - yep, he does it, too and I can't help but roll my eyes): That truck?
Karen: Yes.
Cop 1: That truck is clean, shiny, no dents, no scratches, new tires . . . are you sure that’s the eyesore?
Karen: Yes. It’s 10 years old and broken and she doesn’t want to fix it. It’s just sitting there doing nothing for months.
Me: It’s 16 years old.
Cop 2 (spins around, surprised): Seriously? That truck is that old? Wow! It’s in great shape. You’ve taken good care of her.
Me: Thank you.
Karen: I want that truck gone!
Cop 2 walks over to me to discuss my truck’s mechanical history. So, I explain to him that in the 16 years that I have owned her, I have changed her oil every 3-4 months, given her a bath once a month, got her a new set of tires 6 years ago, and when I first began having problems with her starting, I bought a new battery (the old one was the original battery from when I bought the truck off the showroom floor), and when the battery wasn’t the problem, I had a mechanic come and look at it. He determined that it was the starter and the gasket was leaking. All I was waiting on was my friend to come and help me start her (someone needs to get under the truck and tap the starter while someone else turns over the ignition) so that I can get it to the mechanic’s house for him to work on it.
Karen: She’s lying. That truck hasn’t moved in 3 months.
Me (offering popcorn to Cop 2 who took a handful): Wrong. It hasn’t moved in 4 days. It’s had problems for 3 or 4 months.
Cop 1: Ms. Karen, there really isn’t anything the police department can do for you. Her truck definitely isn’t an eyesore nor is it sitting there in pieces creating a safety hazard.
Karen: She’s driving down property values.
Cop 1 (starts chuckling): Ms. Karen, you are renting a house in government subsidized senior housing.
Cop 2: Why don’t you tell us the real reason why you want her truck removed.
Mary (who has been silent until now - stands up and turns on her best diva soul-sister voice and attitude and gives the cops the greatest Deep-South Beautiful Black Woman sermon I’ve ever heard – I’ll try to write as best I can): Ohh, Lawd Jesus, help us all! Dis here woman of the night, want everything she can’t have, Lawd! I think it’s cuz she pulls her hair back so tight, Lawd, she can only see what’s in the back o’ her mind! Uh huh! She wants her Old Saggy Boy Toy of the Day here to buy my friend’s pick’em up truck, so she can go and pick’em up, Lawd, mm-hmm, if ya gittin' what I’m sayin’. He buy it and trade it to her for a little roll on her nasty sheets! Lawd Jesus, help us! And she think she all hot and sexy so you believe her and take away my friend’s truck. She a fool, uh huh. She think she can fool you, too, uh huh! How da hell do ya think she got those 2 big ass TVs in there? Mmm-hmm!
Cop 1 is bent over laughing hysterically while Cop 2 is standing with his mouth open and his eyes wide.
Cop 2 (turns to Man 2): Is any of that true?
Man 2 (embarrassed, humiliated, and just looking tired): She wanted the truck and 50 bucks.
Karen and Man 2 are arrested. Not sure what the exact charges were but I heard words being thrown around like pandering, solicitation, scamming, and false complaint among others. A couple of days later, Mary told me that Karen returned home. I guess she found a way to get bailed out. I haven’t seen her and I am hoping that I don’t. As for my “pick’em up truck”, I’m still waiting to get her to the mechanic. My friend will be here on his next day off (he doesn't get them often) to help me. It’s a good thing I’m a patient person with a super diva as a friend and neighbor. It's also good to know that my truck is at least worth one 20-minute roll on the sheets and 50 bucks.
EDIT: Thanks for the awards everyone! And just a little side note for those of you rolling your eyes at the fact that I offered a cop popcorn and he took it - I live in the Deep South in a small-ish college town. The cops here are helpful, friendly (until provoked), and generally good guys. When construction workers stole from me after Hurricane Laura, two cops came to investigate and afterwards I offered them both a bottle of water and they accepted.
submitted by Damn, this is making me thirsty just thinking about it.
submitted by IF YOU’RE LOOKING for a place where misadventure could begin, you can’t go past Mbargo. The nightclub’s streetfront is painted a purple so bright you’ll see it in your dreams. Strings of giant sequins shimmer in the breeze. Its phonically inventive name is spelt in silver letters that climb its three-storey terrace facade. Inside are strips of burning neon, a few booths, floorboards so marinated in drink that they have an ingredients list. Bristol is a student city on England’s south coast crowded with music and nightlife and street art. This is Banksy’s home town, and the tourism board suggests in rather strong terms that ‘you would be a fool not to see his amazing work firsthand’. The same organisation describes Mbargo as ‘intimate’, which is fair for a place where you can catch an STI standing up. Students cram into its modest dimensions while people with names like DJ Klaud battle for billing with £1.50 drink deals over seven sloppy nights a week. To get a sense of the story about to come, consider that it’s the kind of place open until two o’clock on a Monday morning, and that at two o’clock on a Monday morning, Ben Stokes still thought it had closed too early.
The Ashes of 2017–18 had disciplinary bookends. It was after that series that Australia’s two leaders went off the rails in South Africa. It was a few weeks before that Ashes tour that England’s biggest star windmilled his way into his own disaster.
In the early hours of 25 September 2017, Stokes and teammate Alex Hales were barred from re-entering Mbargo after a night out on the piss. A Sunday thrashing of an abject West Indies in an ignored series at the fag-end of the season apparently required ample celebration. After arguing with the bouncer and hanging about at the door for a while, they wandered off to find a casino in the hope of more drinking. They’d barely made it around the corner before getting in the middle of a conflict between four locals. As is said on the internet, it escalated quickly.
The 26 September reporting was bloodless. Withholding names, police stated that a man ‘was arrested on suspicion of causing actual bodily harm’ while another went to hospital with facial injuries. England’s director of cricket Andrew Strauss separately confirmed that Stokes was the arrestee, adding that he had been released without charge and that Hales had gamely offered to ‘help police with their enquiries’. Administrators had a good chance of hiding behind that investigation, and the next day Stokes was named in the upcoming Ashes squad as expected. But that night the video emerged.
Bristol student Max Wilson had shot it on his phone, then offered it to The Sun. What he thought was playing hardball was actually lowball: his opening price of £3000 was snapped up by a tabloid that would have paid ten times that. The Sun went on to make a mint by syndicating the rights worldwide. From a window above the fray, the vision showed six men on the street below performing the muddled choreography of a melee. One was right at the centre of it. One was waving a bottle, one dipped in and out, one tried to calm it. Two others floated around the edges. The central figure was unmistakable: red hair burning even in the streetlight as he launched into a series of blows against two of the men, falling to grapple with them on the ground, then following both across the street, swinging punches the whole way. Hales trailed behind, repeatedly and impotently shouting ‘Stokes! Stop! Stokes! Enough!’ The ECB could fudge issues that existed only in thickets of legalese, but not those captured in moving colour. Stokes was stood down from the next West Indies match, then suspended indefinitely. It emerged that he had broken his hand during the fight, something he’d done twice before while punching objects in dressing rooms.
The response in Australia was fierce: Stokes was a thug, a lowlife, a selection that would disgrace England. It was not entirely coincidental that a ban for England’s best player would be handy for the Aussie team, but there was also a cultural split. In England, plenty of people still minimise pub fights as lads letting off steam. In Australia, heavy media coverage as a succession of young men were killed had inverted that tolerance. The discourse now saw any punch as potentially deadly and accordingly reckless. This was more poignant in a cricket context given that David Hookes, the dashing Test batsman and state coach, was killed in 2004 by a pub bouncer’s fist.
The PR situation was bad for Stokes as details emerged of the injuries to the men he’d hit, and that one was a young war veteran and father. Stokes wasn’t officially removed from the Ashes squad through October but stayed behind when his teammates left, hoping for police to dismiss the matter in time for a late dash to Australia. His annual contract was renewed on the due date in case that came to pass. Then 29 October brought a twist in the tale.
‘Ben Stokes praised by gay couple after defending them from homophobic thugs,’ ran the headline. Kai Barry and Billy O’Connell had emerged. Not entirely out of nowhere: while Stokes had made no public comment, this story in his defence had initially been leaked to TV host Piers Morgan after the fight, as soon as the video appeared. Police body-camera footage played in court would later show that Stokes had given the same story to the arresting officer on the night. But no-one knew the identities of the fifth and sixth men in the video, and police appeals had turned up nothing.
It was The Sun again with the breakthrough. Kai and Billy were perfect for a readership not keen on nuance. ‘We couldn’t believe it when we found out they were famous cricketers. I just thought Ben and Alex were quite hot, fit guys,’ said Kai, who was memorably described as a ‘former House of Fraser sales assistant’. The paper had the pair do a full photo shoot: layering the fake tan, showing off chest waxes, mixing Ralph Lauren and Louis Vuitton into a range of outfits. Their best shot had them standing back to back, heads turned to the camera, in a mirror-image Zoolander moment.
Suddenly The Sun was the England team’s best friend. ‘Their claims could lead to the all-rounder being cleared over the punch-up and freed to play in the First Test in Australia next month,’ it gushed, then gave a tasting platter of quotes: ‘We were so grateful to Ben for stepping in to help. He was a real hero.’ ‘If Ben hadn’t intervened it could have been a lot worse for us.’ ‘We could’ve been in real trouble. Ben was a real gentleman.’ Would it be known forever as Kai and Billy’s Ashes? No. While the Bristol boys provided spin for Stokes’ reputation they didn’t influence the police. With charges still pending there was little choice – not given Strauss had previously sacked Kevin Pietersen for being annoying. Stokes remained suspended through the Ashes and a one-day series in Australia, and lost the vice-captaincy. It was January 2018 before the Crown Prosecution Service laid a charge.
That charge surprisingly came in as affray, a crime that can carry prison time but is classified as ‘a breach of the peace as a result of disorderly conduct’. The men he had punched, Ryan Ali and Ryan Hale, faced the same count, charged as equal participants in a fight rather than Stokes being charged with assaulting them. Alex Hales was not charged, despite being seen in the video to aim several kicks when Ryan Ali was lying on the ground. Given the underwhelming standing of the offence, Stokes was cleared by the ECB to tour New Zealand, and kept playing until his trial in August 2018, which he missed a Test to attend. None of the three defendants would be convicted.
The reasoning behind the charges was never released and was attributed vaguely to ‘CPS lawyers’. The service gave the case to Alison Morgan, a prosecutor of a class known as Treasury Counsel who usually handle serious criminal matters. Morgan had a scheduling clash and never ended up court for the case, but in 2018 and 2019 she would go on to win damages and admissions of libel from The Daily Mail, The Times and The Daily Telegraph variously for incorrectly reporting that she had been responsible for the inadequate and inconsistent charging decisions.
Morgan’s successor on the case was Nicholas Corsellis QC, who on the first day of trial was permitted by the CPS to request two assault charges be added against Stokes. ‘Upon further review,’ claimed a CPS statement, ‘we considered that additional assault charges would also be appropriate.’ This was patent nonsense from the service that eight months earlier had chosen the lesser charge. Any lawyer knows that no judge will allow new charges once a trial has begun, because the defence hasn’t had time to prepare. But such a request could deflect criticism of the prosecution service by technically making the judge the one who disallows the charge.
Working through the story from the trial and the tape is complicated. You had a Ryan and a Ryan, a Hale and a Hales, a Billy and a Barry and a Ben. You had several versions of events as to who knew whom, who was drinking with whom, who had insulted whom and who had merely engaged in ‘banter’, a word that in modern Britain has to do an unconscionable amount of lifting. The reporting had constantly mixed up the Ryans as to who had which injury, who was in hospital, who had played which part in the fight, and whose mum had which stern words to say about it.
Let’s agree that from now Ryan Ali is Ryan One, the firefighter who ended up with a fractured eye socket and a cracked tooth. Ryan Two can be Ryan Hale, the soldier who scored concussion and facial lacerations. Mr Barry and Mr O’Connell are best known per The Sun as Kai and Billy. In scorecard parlance we’ll leave the cricketers as Stokes and Hales.
Amid the confusion, Stokes and his lawyers built his case in a straightforward way. The UK legal definition of affray is ‘if a person threatens or uses unlawful violence or force towards another person, which causes another person of reasonable firmness present at the scene to fear for their safety’. That means it doesn’t account for violence that harms a target, but violence that might frighten a theoretical bystander. The wiggle room for Stokes was with ‘unlawful’, because the charge excuses violence in defending oneself or others.
This interpretation hinged on the beginning of the video, where Ryan One waves a beer bottle about and takes a swing at Kai. The version from Stokes was that he was minding his own business walking down the street when he heard homophobic abuse. He intervened verbally and was threatened verbally by Ryan One – something that Ryan One denied but that couldn’t be proved or disproved. In fear for his safety Stokes had to nullify that threat by bashing Ryan One before it went the other way. He registered Ryan Two in his peripheral vision as another possible threat, and again had only one recourse.
Stokes also had to convince the jury to disregard testimony from Mbargo’s bouncer that he had been looking for a fight. A solid lump of a man, Andrew Cunningham had not enjoyed his patron’s attempts to get back into the club after the bouncer declined an offer of a bribe. ‘He got a bit verbally abusive towards myself. He mentioned my gold teeth and he said I looked like a cunt and I replied, “Thank you very much.” He just looked at me and told me my tattoos were shit and to look at my job.’ Cunningham described these words as coming in ‘a spiteful tone, quite an angry tone’, and said that Stokes still seemed angry as he walked away.
These were details the doorman had nothing to gain by inventing, but each of them Stokes denied. By his own accounting he had drunk a beer at the game and three pints at his hotel, then ‘potentially had some Jägerbombs’ along with half a dozen vodkas at the club. He insisted that after all of this he was not drunk.
If I may take a moment here to call upon the wisdom of experience – a person who cannot definitively say whether they have had any Jägerbombs has definitely had some Jägerbombs. A Jägerbomb is an experience that does not pass one by. Further to that, a person who says they have ‘potentially’ done something has definitely done that thing and doesn’t want to admit it. A person who has had between 15 and 24 standard drinks in one evening is shitfaced. A person who tries to bribe a bouncer £300 – three hundred quid! – to get into Mbargo – Mbargo! – is beyond shitfaced.
If Stokes admitted that he was drunk then the prosecution could say he was out of control. He claimed clear recall of assessing a threat, feeling fear and deciding to protect himself with force. He confidently denied details from the bouncer’s testimony, like using the word ‘cunt’ or mentioning gold teeth. Yet on other details he claimed a ‘significant memory blackout’. He didn’t remember the punch that saw Ryan One taken away by ambulance. He didn’t remember what the Ryans had said to Kai and Billy, only that those words were homophobic. With no head injury, as one of the few people who hadn’t been hit, he had supposedly suffered this memory loss despite being sober.
The version from Kai and Billy was compatible but vague: they had been walking along, they ‘heard … shouts’ of abuse from an unspecified source, then Stokes ‘stepped in’ and thus they avoided possible harm. They claimed to have been bought a drink by Stokes at Mbargo, although CCTV showed them meeting outside. The overall implication from both accounts was that the cricketers had been pals with Kai and Billy, while the Ryans as per The Sun’s headline were a roving band of thugs.
The reality though is that the Ryans were the ones hanging out with Kai and Billy at Mbargo. Police discussed CCTV from inside the club in questioning and at trial. On that footage the four Bristolians bought drinks for one another, danced together, and Kai was noted to have variously touched Ryan Two’s crotch and Ryan One’s buttock. Ryan One told police that all of this was taken lightheartedly and wasn’t a problem. Indeed, when the Ryans called it a night the other two left with them.
This much is clear from footage out the front of Mbargo, which shows Kai and Billy exit the club and start talking with a subdued Hales and a demonstrative Stokes, who are stuck outside. The vision was played in court to determine whether Stokes was antagonistic towards Kai and Billy, as he appears to impersonate them and to throw a lit cigarette their way. More interesting is that after a few minutes the Ryans emerge, and all six actors in the fight video briefly form a prequel in the one frame.
Ryan Two pats Billy on the chest in friendly fashion with his right hand before clapping him on the back with his left. He moves past and does the same to Kai before leaving the shot. Ryan One stops to speak to Kai. They lean in for a moment, talking, then Kai turns and they walk out of frame together. Billy hangs around for a few seconds at the door and then looks after them and races to catch up. Stokes and Hales remain outside the club to remonstrate further with the bouncers. Whatever discord develops around the corner is between four men who left amicably together minutes earlier.
There’s no way to know what caused that friction. If Ryan One did use homophobic slurs, he might have been drunkenly obnoxious for no reason. He might have had an insecure macho response to some extra flirtation. He might have thought unkindness was funny – ‘banter’ once again. Or he might have said something that was misunderstood, as both Ryans insisted in court that they had not used nor had the impulse to use any abusive language.
What clearly didn’t happen was an attack by bigots on random passers-by. This kind of crime is regular enough that an audience understands the horror of it, and this is what was evoked by the public accounts of Stokes, Billy and Kai. All we know is that there was some verbal dispute among the Bristol locals, and that Stokes came along behind them and put himself in the middle of it. Ryan One responded to the interference aggressively and away they went. There are plenty of reasons to look sideways at the idea that Stokes was a saviour. Foremost, neither Kai nor Billy was called upon as witnesses in court. You’d think it would be ideal to have Stokes’ story backed up by those who benefited from his selflessness. But his defence team had developed the impression that the pair had shown a changeable recall of events amid a hard-partying lifestyle, and would be dismantled by the prosecution on the stand.
That raises the question of whether The Sun coached their quotes for the 2017 interview. Despite missing court, Kai and Billy clearly enjoyed the attention. In 2018 after the trial they did a follow-up spread in the same paper about how poor Ben had been mistreated. They got a television spot on Good Morning Britain and glowed about his heroism. In 2019 The Sun wheeled them out once more to say that Stokes should get a knighthood. In 2017 they had ‘never watched cricket’ but by 2019 were supposedly volunteering sentences like, ‘He saved us, now he’s saved the Ashes.’ Whether they were paid for these appearances is not known, but the chance to be famous for a day can be lure enough.
If you find this cynical, consider that on the night in question, the Bristol boys were so deeply moved and thankful for Ben’s intervention that they left him to be arrested and never attempted to find out who he was. Seconds after the video ended, an off-duty policeman reached the scene. You might think that someone grateful to a saviour would speak on his behalf. Instead, said Kai, ‘it all got a bit scary so we walked off. It was too much for me and we went to Quigley’s takeaway for chicken burgers and cheesy chips.’ They didn’t give their hero a thought for over a month while police issued multiple appeals for witnesses.
As for Stokes, he told his arresting officer that ‘his friends’ had been attacked. After three minutes of chat outside a nightclub, these friends were so dear to him that he has never contacted them again: not after the newspaper piece, not after the verdict. He didn’t want to see how they were or thank them for their support. He didn’t mention them by name in his solicitor’s statement after the trial.
The Stokes defence rested on Ryan One’s bottle, which he had carried out of Mbargo to finish a beer, not to use in a Sharks versus Jets amateur production. But once he turned it over to hold it by the neck it became a weapon. Intent and interpretation can change the material nature of things. Part of Stokes’ justification in court was that the bottle implied that the two Ryans might have ‘other weapons’ hidden away. You can understand how a jury could decide that created doubt.
Not being convicted, though, doesn’t give the contents of the video a big green tick. It does not, as his lawyer claimed, vindicate Stokes. Looking in detail, Ryan One is belligerent but his movements telegraph a bluff. Hales is the person he’s gesturing at, but they’re several metres apart when Ryan One cocks his arm ostentatiously, showing off the bottle rather than bracing to swing. He skips forward but Hales skips back and Ryan One doesn’t follow. Kai stretches out an arm to impede Ryan One, who has a drunken stumble, nearly eats pavement, then staggers towards Kai and hits him in the back. That hand is still holding the bottle, but his strike is a side-arm cuff on a soft part of the body. It’s all pretty tame.
This is where Stokes gets involved. Having moved across to protect Hales, he now takes three large steps to run around Kai and booms his first punch at Ryan One. They fall to the ground and the bottle clinks away. Stokes gets to his feet to punch down at the fallen man, while Hales arrives to kick him ineffectively then runs off across the street for some unknown reason. Ice-cream van? Stokes is soon back in the grapple having his shirt pulled up to show off his Durham tan. Ryan Two steps in for the first time to pull Stokes away, prompting a couple more random punches at this new target, then Stokes trips backwards over Ryan One and sprawls in the street. Hales chooses this moment to return and aim some solid kicks at the head of the man on the ground. Nothing so far is a triumph of moral philosophy or the pugilistic arts. But if it all stopped here, perhaps you could say it was somewhere approaching fair. Ryan One has behaved like a turnip and it’s not an entirely unjust world that would give him a whack across the chops. The antagonists have disentangled, Stokes has some distance, it’s time to dust off and go home. Ryan Two steps forward for this purpose with his palm raised in conciliatory style and says, ‘Settle down, stop.’
So Stokes punches him.
It’s roughly his fifth punch overall, and he really winds up into this one. He misses so hard that he stumbles away into the shadows of the shop awnings along the road.
Hales starts shouting for him to stop. Ryan Two backs into the street, still holding his palm up. Stokes closes on him from about five metres away, six large steps, to where Ryan Two is standing on his own. Stokes pushes him a couple of times, as Ryan Two keeps trying to placate him and saying ‘Stop.’ Stokes throws his sixth punch, largely missing as his target ducks.
Ryan Two keeps pulling away and reversing, into the middle of the street now. Stokes follows him, grabbing his sleeve to drag him back. By this point Ryan One has found his feet and walked around behind his friend. Both of them are in the same line of sight for Stokes, and both are backing away. Stokes aims his seventh and his eighth punches, which Ryan Two tries to deflect, as Hales walks up behind Stokes to grab him.
Stokes yanks away from his friend and switches to Ryan One instead, taking seven paces to grab him before throwing his ninth punch of the night. He grabs again; Ryan One blocks that arm and pushes himself back away from Stokes. Ryan Two again intercedes, putting himself between the two with his palms up and his arm extended.
Stokes throws his tenth punch, a right-hander at the face of Ryan Two, then shoves him backwards. Ryan Two backs away once more, four paces. Stokes follows, steadies, lines up, then launches his strongest punch yet, his eleventh, a proper right hook from a solid base, one that cracks across the man’s head and gives him concussion. Ryan Two ends up flat on his back in the middle of the street, his hands still outstretched for a moment in useless protest until they twitch and drop to the blacktop.
Stokes isn’t done. He once more shoves away the restraining Hales and follows Ryan One, who keeps backing away saying, ‘Alright, alright, alright.’ Five more paces from Stokes before another blow at the man’s head. Kai and Billy are now standing over the poleaxed Ryan Two. The video ends, but seconds later Stokes will punch Ryan One hard enough to knock him out too, before off-duty cop Andrew Spure arrives on the scene to bring down the curtain. When the body-camera footage kicks in some minutes later, Stokes is in handcuffs but Ryan One is still laid out in the street. Ryan Two has regained consciousness, folded his shirt under his friend’s head and is asking police for an ambulance.
‘At this point, I felt vulnerable and frightened. I was concerned for myself and others.’ This was how Stokes described that sequence to the court. An elite athlete with years of gym work and training to snap a bat through the line of a ball with astounding power and precision, swinging fists as hard as he can at men with none of those advantages. Punching so hard that he breaks his hand, and repeatedly shoving away a friend so he can punch some more. Frightened and threatened by two targets shouting ‘Get back!’ and ‘Stop!’
The off-duty officer testified that Stokes ‘seemed to be the main aggressor or was progressing forward trying to get to’ Ryan One, who was ‘trying to back away or get away from the situation’. The student who filmed the video can be heard on the tape at one stage exclaiming ‘Fuck!’ and testified that it was because ‘I felt a little bit sorry about the lad that had been punched and it looked like he had his hands up’. That tallied with the prosecutor’s depiction of ‘a sustained episode of significant violence that left onlookers shocked at what was taking place’.
The defendant stuck to his strategy. ‘No, my sole focus was to protect myself.’ All up, in the 33 seconds of footage after he falls over, Stokes takes 35 steps forward to keep hitting two men who keep trying to get away. Not once is he hit back.
After the verdict, Stokes’ solicitor positioned him as the victim. It had been ‘an eleven-month ordeal for Ben … The jury’s decision fairly reflects the truth of what happened that night … He was minding his own business … It was only when others came under threat that Ben became physically engaged. The steps that he took were solely aimed at ensuring the safety of himself and the others present …’ The statement was impossibly self-righteous and self-absorbed.
If there was anyone to feel sorry for it was Ryan Hale, the second of our two Ryans. He’s the one who emerged from the club with a friendly arm around the shoulder for Kai and Billy. He’s the one who interposed himself to end the fight, then kept putting himself back in the firing line, trying to calm an intimidating stranger while dodging blows. For his show of restraint he got laid out regardless, concussed in the street, then was issued a criminal charge equal to that of the man who hit him, and described in national media as a violent bigot in an untested story to support that man’s defence.
Lawyers for Ryan Two made a more convincing post-trial statement, noting that Kai and Billy, ‘neither of whom were relied upon by the prosecution or the defence team for Mr Stokes, have taken the opportunity to speak with various media outlets about the alleged homophobic abuse that they received in the early hours of September 25. Mr Hale has passionately denied this allegation throughout the course of this case,’ it continued.
‘It is upsetting to Mr Hale that although he was acquitted, the accusation that he was the author of such abuse remains. Both Mr Hale and Mr Ali were knocked unconscious by Mr Stokes, and although Mr Stokes has been acquitted of an affray, Mr Hale struggles with the reasons why the Crown Prosecution Service did not treat him as a victim of an unlawful assault.’Good question. Avon and Somerset police were the investigating force, and they were frustrated by the decision. Ryan Two was filmed clearly not hurting anyone, but police were instructed by the CPS to proceed with a charge. Hales (the cricketer) was filmed fighting but ‘a decision was made at a senior level of the CPS’ not to proceed. Police expected Stokes to be charged with assault but the CPS declined. It doesn’t take a wild cynic to think that placing the same lukewarm charge on three men for vastly divergent behaviour might ensure that none would be convicted, even as the trial would maintain the pretence that a defendant of influential standing had not been given a free pass.
A couple of years down the line, the original interview with Kai and Billy has disappeared. All traces have been scrubbed from The Sun website, its social media history, and even from the Wayback Machine internet archive. Given its headline of ‘homophobic thugs’ and text that names Ryan Two but not Ryan One, the libel liability isn’t hard to spot. Later interviews with Kai and Billy take the passive voice – they ‘suffered homophobic slurs outside a Bristol nightclub’.
The article that was once claimed to exonerate brave Ben Stokes now links only to a missing content page, with a picture of a dropped ice-cream cone and the phrase ‘legal removal’ inserted into the web URL. In terms of consequences, Stokes missed one tour. When he resumed his career in January 2018, the Australians hadn’t yet ruined theirs. Their year-long bans looked much more stringent. But the Stokes case dragged on in other ways. With no criminal liability, the Australians confessed promptly enough for the sporting world to give them the full length of the lash. Their situation was ugly but there was closure. Stokes got stuck in legal stasis, unable to be fully backed or condemned. Instead his issue was always present, a browser full of open tabs that the ECB swore they would read any day now.
Through 2018 Stokes was back but he wasn’t back, in the sunglasses and finger-guns sense. In his return one-day series he nearly cost England a match with 39 from 73 balls in Wellington. His first Test hit was a duck as England got rolled in Auckland for 58. At Trent Bridge while Stokes was injured, England posted a world record 481 against Australia. With Stokes three weeks later at the same ground they made 268. He crawled to 50 from 103, the second-slowest any Englishman had reached that milestone in 20 years. That span covered Alastair Cook’s whole career. It was apologetic batting, acting out responsibility via the scorecard. Stokes was creeping back into the team like he’d been kicked out in a blazing row and was hoping to tip-toe to the sofa.
It was December 2018 before the ECB disciplinary committee ruled on him and Hales. In a ‘remarkable coincidence’, wrote Simon Heffer in The Telegraph, ‘the punishment both players faced in terms of bans from playing at international level was covered by the amount of games they had already missed when dropped by England’s selectors, in the furore that followed the incident’. The verdict compounded the omissions around the case by not addressing the violence at its heart. Nor did Stokes, apologising only ‘to my team-mates, coaches and support staff’, and then ‘to England supporters and to the public for bringing the game into disrepute’.
The implicit next step was to rebuild that reputation. It might have been easier had his court defence not meant that he wasn’t game to admit any fault at all. It might have been easier if he or his advisers had been willing to change tack once the trial was done. Imagine a world where Stokes had stood outside court and apologised for overreacting, for the injuries he’d caused, and for the time and energy he had sucked out of other people’s lives. That would have been a show of responsibility beyond a scorecard. When the time came around to assess forgiveness, it might have meant forgiveness was deserved.
submitted by It’s taken me quite some time to decide whether to tell anyone about this. With Mardi Gras coming up again soon, I wanted to make sure people were warned, and know what happened.
Something happened at Mardi Gras last year. And it’s being covered up. Every word of what follows is true.
My friends and I decided to go to New Orleans for Mardi Gras. I’ve always heard that the city was a non-stop, twenty-four hour, year round party. I’ve also heard that the days leading up to Mardi Gras take this to the extreme.
There were three of us altogether. Myself, Chris, and Sam. We decided to arrive three days early and build up to the actual day of Mardi Gras. We drove down, taking turns at the wheel so we wouldn’t have to stop at any hotels along the way.
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The First Night Saturday was our first night there. We’re from New Jersey, where it was about 30 degrees (Fahrenheit) when we left. But when we arrived in New Orleans, it was in the 80s, and very humid.
Our hotel was right on the Mississippi River, and our room had a waterfront view. We settled in, cleaned up, and went out to walk around and check things out. We slowly aimed ourselves toward the French Quarter, checking out as much as we could along the way.
I was a bit shocked that we could just buy beer from vendors right on the street and walk around, unbothered by police. We can’t do that in Jersey.
All in all, we had a great time, great food and drink, and retired to the hotel around 4 am, while the city was still buzzing. As tired as I was, it took a while to fall asleep, due to the loud people partying in the hallway and surrounding rooms.
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The Second Night Sunday, we went to check out Harrah’s (the casino), and then we made it back out to the streets for the atmosphere and alcohol once again.
While walking around, we met a girl named Antoinette (Toni for short), who told us that she was a local, and that she was going to college there.
Toni suggested we all go to a little restaurant just slightly out of the area, called Le Bon Temps (pronounced: Lay Baw Taw). That translates to “the good times” in English. We all headed down together, and it was a pretty cool little place.
While we were there, I witnessed something that I had previously thought was only done in sitcoms. In the middle of our dinner, the door to the kitchen flew open, slamming against the wall. Out from the kitchen walked a large man, using one hand to carry a smaller employee by the back of his shirt collar. The guy being carried looked like there was something wrong with him. His eyes were half closed and bloodshot, while his face was almost pure white, completely void of expression.
The larger man carried him by the back of his shirt all the way across the restaurant to the front door, where he pushed him outside and shut the door behind him.
On his way back to the kitchen, the large man said “Sorry, folks, but you just can’t show up to work stoned out of your gourd like that.”
There were some giggles from the patrons in reply.
We all drank quite a bit that night and I ended up staying at Antoinette’s place, about a mile away. Chris and Sam said they were going to stay out for a while longer and then go back to the hotel.
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The Third Night The next day, Monday, I texted my friends that I’d meet up with them later that evening.
I spent the day with Antoinette, and we had a great time. I started wondering if this was too much for me to be getting into, allowing myself to get involved with a girl like this when I live so far away. She was definitely someone who I would want to pursue a relationship with, but I knew I’d be leaving town without her in just a few days. I decided to push these thoughts away, and let the proverbial chips fall where they may. We had two more days. Anything could happen.
While Toni and I were walking back downtown later, I noticed there was a girl walking about a block behind us who seemed to be pretty out of it. I couldn’t tell if she was drunk, high, or what. Toni told me to just ignore her, as she hurried me along.
Once we got to the corner where we were meeting up with Chris and Sam, things began to get strange. As we were crossing the street, I felt a hand on my back, almost like someone was pushing me, although rather weakly. I turned around, and realized that it was the girl who was walking a block behind us earlier. She wasn’t actually pushing me, though. It appeared that she needed to hold onto something to avoid falling over.
We stopped and asked her if she was ok, and she just sort of grunted. At this point, I think we all became concerned. She started mumbling a bit, saying things like “My name is Emily,” “I was with friends, but now I’m here,” and “I live here, that way,” pointing in a direction that was blocked by a parade route.
I asked her, “What happened? Did you lose your friends?,” to which she did not reply.
We were standing right in front of a Burger King. I asked the crowd if someone could get a cup of water for her. Everyone who heard me just looked the other way and kept walking, some giving me the evil eye, as if I had done something wrong. A BK employee near the door said “You get her out of here, now!,” slamming the door shut.
I noticed that Toni was staring at Emily with a very serious look on her face. Toni whispered into my ear, “She isn’t drunk. We should get out of here.”
I replied, “But, shouldn’t we help her? She’s really messed up. We can’t leave her here to die.”
Toni begrudgingly said “Alright, but let’s make this quick.”
We each got on one side and carried Emily along with us down the block, where we came across a security guard standing in front of a parking structure. I stopped and asked the guard if they could help. I explained that we didn’t know what was wrong with her, but that she needed attention, and possibly a ride to the hospital. The guard looked at me like I was stupid. Toni gave her a shrug. The guard then re-focused on Emily. She reached into Emily’s backpack, rifled around a bit, and pulled out an ID card. The guard then said “I’ll take care of this and get her an ambulance. You can go on your way.”
Toni started pulling me along, as I said “thank you” to the guard.
As we were all walking, I asked Antoinette, “What did you mean when you said she wasn’t drunk? Is there something going on that we don’t know about?”
Toni just said, “There’s a lot of strange things going on around here that you don’t want to know about. And neither do I.”
My friends kind of laughed, and we moved along. We had some drinks and got back into the celebratory mood.
Chris mentioned that he had been wanting to check out one of the New Orleans cemeteries that he had read about. Toni did not look enthused.
But, Chris was already in motion. He walked over to one of the police officers who were standing guard, and asked “Hey, do you know where the closest cemetery is?”
The officer looked him dead in the eye and stared for a few seconds. Then… And no, this is not a joke, even though it sounds like a bad slasher movie line… He said, “There’s one just a few blocks over that way, but you don’t want to be going down there.”
Chris smirked. “Why not?”
The officer replied, (And again, he really said this. It’s not just a cheesy line from a horror movie.) “They don’t really like your kind over there.”
I have to be honest. I was kind of freaked out by this interaction. And Toni wasn’t looking happy.
Chris said, “Come on, nothing’s going to happen. This isn’t a horror movie.”
After a long sigh, I replied, “I guess it can’t hurt. I’ve heard that the cemeteries are a sight to see around here.”
We embarked on Chris’ quest, much to the chagrin of the rest of the group.
There was quite a change in the look of the city as we got closer to the cemetery. It went from historic New Orleans chic to… something much less visually appealing. As we drew closer, I started to see and feel eyes on all of us.
As we walked the final stretch to the cemetery entrance, there were at least a dozen people standing on their front porches and in their front yards, looking at us like we were about to do something really stupid.
“We shouldn’t be here,” Toni said quietly.
“Well, we are here, so let’s just be quick about it.” I said.
When we got to the front gate, it was locked. Apparently, visiting hours were over.
“Oh no, I guess we have to leave! Too bad,” said Toni.
Despite our misfortune, we could still see all of the large, creepy and wonderful burial structures through the wrought iron fencing. Because New Orleans is below sea level, bodies are buried above ground. The arrangement of the structures in the cemetery actually looked like a small city. A city of the dead.
The eyes were now piercing the backs of our heads, and we knew something was going to happen if we didn’t get out soon. But, Chris started walking the perimeter of the fencing until he happened upon a crevice big enough for him to try and squeeze through. He told us to follow him. I was hesitant, and Toni was telling me that we need to leave, but I figured a quick adventure inside couldn’t hurt. We’d be gone in a few minutes, not even enough time for police to arrive and catch us. So, we all squeezed through, one by one.
It was getting pretty dark now, and this was really starting to feel wrong. I was just waiting for the doors to start opening and the dead to come out and greet us.
I decided I was done with this place, and said to Chris, “Alright, we’re going back. This is just disrespectful, and the locals obviously don’t want us here.”
He shot back, “Scared, huh?”
I ignored him.
We all squeezed back out, one at a time. Toni went just before me, and I was the last one out. I had a feeling like someone else was behind me, even though I was the last one. Before going through, I looked behind me… And I could swear that in the darkness, the door on one of the structures looked like it was sliding open. I could even hear the faint sound of a cement block scraping across the ground. I’m sure it was just my imagination, but this made me decide to get the heck out of there with the quickness.
We walked silently at a much quicker pace back to the more populated downtown area. The noise and lights in the French Quarter seemed to welcome us home.
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Tuesday. Mardi Gras. Carne Vale. A Farewell… To The Flesh. Today, the streets were twice as crowded as they had been the night before. This was the big day. Tons of new tourists filled the streets, to the point that we literally couldn’t even walk on Bourbon Street. We attempted to, but got stuck in the crowd like someone had tried to fit 100 crayons into a box that was only meant for 50. If anything happened here, we simply wouldn’t be able to move or get out of the way. For the rest of the day, we stuck to the side streets.
As the parades carried on, it became more and more difficult to even go anywhere else, as they were blocking the streets, and thus blocking any way for us to go in the direction that we wanted.
At this point, we kind of gave up and decided “If we can’t beat ‘em, we join ‘em.”
“Let’s just go watch one of the parades,” I said.
The others were indifferent. We all grabbed drinks and walked toward one of the main streets of the city as nightfall was beginning to close in on us.
On our walk, we came upon some sort of dance troupe in the street. There were probably a dozen people in the troupe, all dressed in dark red, tribal looking outfits. Along with their dance, a few played hand drums, and they were all singing in what may have been French. I couldn’t understand what they were saying, though. At some point, the woman in front who appeared to be the leader of the troupe caught my eye and stared with a look as if she was not happy to see me. I saw her look over at Antoinette, then avert her gaze as if she had been caught.
“Let’s go,” said Toni.
As we walked away, I looked back and saw that the woman was staring again, with the same unhappy look on her face.
A few minutes later into our walk, we started to see ahead down the street where it was looking more and more congested with people, to the point of it looking like the main floor of a sold-out rock show. I wondered how these people could deal with being so compressed together.
Toni spoke up.
“We want to stay away from anything that crowded,” she said.
The rest of us agreed.
I said, “Well, let’s just get a little closer. We don’t have to get right in the pit, but I do want to see what’s so exciting over there.”
We kept walking.
As we got closer, something started to seem a bit more clear. Not all of the people were making noise because they were having fun. Some of the merry-making noises turned out to be screams.
As we moved closer, despite Antoinette’s objections, I noticed a small huddle of people in the center. Someone was on the ground. I hurried up to the circle and pushed my way to the inside. What I saw there left me frozen in my tracks. There were two people. One was laying on their back, motionless. The other… was on their knees, hovering over the one on the ground, and it looked… like they were eating their face. Blood was spewing everywhere while gawkers screamed in terror.
Toni grabbed my arm from behind and said “I told you, we have to go!” She pulled at my arm, but I couldn’t avert my gaze from what was happening. Eventually, she pulled hard enough that I lost balance, sort of fell over, then got back up and started retreating with her.
When we got back outside of the circle, we saw that there was another of the exact same scene happening maybe 20 feet away from us in another direction.
“What is happening?!” I screamed.
Then, the first circle we saw was dispersing rapidly as the flesh eater abandoned their meal and started seeking dessert in the crowd. Just like that, another was incapacitated on the ground, becoming seconds.
But there was something else that I noticed while the thing was rising to look for its next victim… It was Emily, the girl who followed us the previous night.
Toni told us that we were going to need to get to her place. As we began running, there were more and more of these things attacking and eating others. Where were they all coming from?
If this wasn’t horrifying enough, I then received the answer to my question. Some of the flesh eaters were missing faces themselves. Just bone, blood and remnants of skin where their faces used to be. And they were using these skeletal faces to eat those of others.
They weren’t ‘coming from’ anywhere. They were being created by the other flesh eaters. As one walked away from their meal, I saw the body of their victim rise and begin chasing their own mark.
I was transfixed on this horrific, spontaneous public meltdown of society happening right before our eyes, when I was suddenly thrust to the ground with great force. I never saw it coming.
I had no idea what was happening. I eventually focused, and realized that I had one of these faceless flesh eaters hovering over me. Blood was dripping from their jowls onto my face. I knew it was all over for me.
Before I could even scream, Antoinette suddenly appeared face to face with the creature hovering over me. Except, she looked different. Her eyes were blood red, and she appeared to have a large set of fang-like teeth protruding from her open mouth.
She used one hand to pick up the creature, bringing it face to face with her. She stared directly into its eyes and let out a guttural, terrifying sound like I’ve ever heard. Whatever this was… The creature was afraid of Toni. She dropped it, and it scrambled off immediately.
She looked at me with her new face and shouted, “Get up and follow me. They won’t touch you now.”
We ran behind her the rest of the way, tears in my eyes as I tried to figure out what was happening.
When we got to her place, Toni locked the doors, and then shook some sort of liquid out of a bottle onto the floor in front of each of the doorways and windows.
“This won’t be over until morning,” she said. Her face was back to normal now.
We all stayed together in the living room that night. I knew that Toni would keep us safe.
When daylight broke, she alerted us that it should be safe now, but that we needed to leave the city and go home immediately. We piled into her car so that she could drive us back to ours at the hotel.
As we drove, I noticed that the streets were now empty, save for what appeared to be clean-up crews picking up the aftermath. Some were power washing the ground where there appeared to be dark stains. There were no bodies, and no flesh eaters out seeking breakfast, from what I could see. We were all dead silent for the entire drive, focused on what was happening outside our windows.
Toni turned on the radio to a news station, and they were reporting that several people had died in what they called “parade float accidents” the prior day.
As Toni said goodbye to us, she hugged me and put a note in my pocket.
I haven’t had the courage to read it yet.
CHX Not much to say today other than the fact that it has officially been over two months since my last bet. This is without a doubt my longest "clean" streak in years. Some days are still a struggle and I'm sure that's not going to go away any time soon, but I'm ok with that as long as I can keep getting better at recognizing the urges for what they are. Couple things that have really been helping:
1) All In: The Addicted Gamblers Podcast. This is a great podcast that deals with gambling addiction from a bunch of different angles. The co-hosts are honest and open about their own struggles and do a great job of finding guest speakers who can either add their own stories to the mix or provide help and resources through the various service agencies and/or commissions that they represent. I would highly recommend it.
2)My $100 list. I went to the bank when I was about two weeks into the process of trying to quit. I took out $100 and made myself keep track of exactly where that money went over the course of the next week or so. It ended up covering a fair amount of stuff that I needed (gas, groceries, dog food) as well as a few things that I wanted (new sunglasses, a decent bottle of wine, a few impulse purchases, etc.). I am still trying to retrain my brain to understand that money is a lot more valuable when I don't look at it as gambling capital, and making the list really helped me to gain some perspective as to how much a single hand at the blackjack table is actually worth. I keep the list in my wallet for when I need a reminder or a kick in the ass.
3) This thread. I don't post out here too often, maybe only once or twice a week or so, but this forum has been amazing. It helps me organize my thoughts and allows me to keep a living record of this journey. If I ever really feel like going to gamble, I go back and re-read the first post that I made. It's dark. I never want to feel like that again, so every once in a while I'll refer back to it to make myself realize that however annoying the urge to go hit the casino might be, anything that I'm feeling now is a million times better than the way I was feeling then. I've also met some really amazing people through this group and their support has been truly mind-blowing.
4) Keeping busy. I learned how to knit. I'm spending a lot of time hiking in the snow with my dog. I bought some crappy art supplies and am learning how to paint. I'm spending more time with my family. I'm trying to teach myself how to cook (not going too well yet 😬). I enjoy most of this stuff, anyway, so it's nice to be getting back into the things that I used to do before I started using all of my free time to gamble, but I also find that having lots of potential distractions at the ready is really helpful.
What works for you guys? What doesn't work? Let me know! I'm open to any suggestions! Cheers!
submitted by It’s taken me quite some time to decide whether to tell anyone about this. With Mardi Gras coming up again soon, I wanted to make sure people were warned, and know what happened.
Something happened at Mardi Gras last year. And it’s being covered up. Every word of what follows is true.
My friends and I decided to go to New Orleans for Mardi Gras. I’ve always heard that the city was a non-stop, twenty-four hour, year round party. I’ve also heard that the days leading up to Mardi Gras take this to the extreme.
There were three of us altogether. Myself, Chris, and Sam. We decided to arrive three days early and build up to the actual day of Mardi Gras. We drove down, taking turns at the wheel so we wouldn’t have to stop at any hotels along the way.
------------------------------
The First Night Saturday was our first night there. We’re from New Jersey, where it was about 30 degrees (Fahrenheit) when we left. But when we arrived in New Orleans, it was in the 80s, and very humid.
Our hotel was right on the Mississippi River, and our room had a waterfront view. We settled in, cleaned up, and went out to walk around and check things out. We slowly aimed ourselves toward the French Quarter, checking out as much as we could along the way.
I was a bit shocked that we could just buy beer from vendors right on the street and walk around, unbothered by police. We can’t do that in Jersey.
All in all, we had a great time, great food and drink, and retired to the hotel around 4 am, while the city was still buzzing. As tired as I was, it took a while to fall asleep, due to the loud people partying in the hallway and surrounding rooms.
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The Second Night Sunday, we went to check out Harrah’s (the casino), and then we made it back out to the streets for the atmosphere and alcohol once again.
While walking around, we met a girl named Antoinette (Toni for short), who told us that she was a local, and that she was going to college there.
Toni suggested we all go to a little restaurant just slightly out of the area, called Le Bon Temps (pronounced: Lay Baw Taw). That translates to “the good times” in English. We all headed down together, and it was a pretty cool little place.
While we were there, I witnessed something that I had previously thought was only done in sitcoms. In the middle of our dinner, the door to the kitchen flew open, slamming against the wall. Out from the kitchen walked a large man, using one hand to carry a smaller employee by the back of his shirt collar. The guy being carried looked like there was something wrong with him. His eyes were half closed and bloodshot, while his face was almost pure white, completely void of expression.
The larger man carried him by the back of his shirt all the way across the restaurant to the front door, where he pushed him outside and shut the door behind him.
On his way back to the kitchen, the large man said “Sorry, folks, but you just can’t show up to work stoned out of your gourd like that.”
There were some giggles from the patrons in reply.
We all drank quite a bit that night and I ended up staying at Antoinette’s place, about a mile away. Chris and Sam said they were going to stay out for a while longer and then go back to the hotel.
------------------------------
The Third Night The next day, Monday, I texted my friends that I’d meet up with them later that evening.
I spent the day with Antoinette, and we had a great time. I started wondering if this was too much for me to be getting into, allowing myself to get involved with a girl like this when I live so far away. She was definitely someone who I would want to pursue a relationship with, but I knew I’d be leaving town without her in just a few days. I decided to push these thoughts away, and let the proverbial chips fall where they may. We had two more days. Anything could happen.
While Toni and I were walking back downtown later, I noticed there was a girl walking about a block behind us who seemed to be pretty out of it. I couldn’t tell if she was drunk, high, or what. Toni told me to just ignore her, as she hurried me along.
Once we got to the corner where we were meeting up with Chris and Sam, things began to get strange. As we were crossing the street, I felt a hand on my back, almost like someone was pushing me, although rather weakly. I turned around, and realized that it was the girl who was walking a block behind us earlier. She wasn’t actually pushing me, though. It appeared that she needed to hold onto something to avoid falling over.
We stopped and asked her if she was ok, and she just sort of grunted. At this point, I think we all became concerned. She started mumbling a bit, saying things like “My name is Emily,” “I was with friends, but now I’m here,” and “I live here, that way,” pointing in a direction that was blocked by a parade route.
I asked her, “What happened? Did you lose your friends?,” to which she did not reply.
We were standing right in front of a Burger King. I asked the crowd if someone could get a cup of water for her. Everyone who heard me just looked the other way and kept walking, some giving me the evil eye, as if I had done something wrong. A BK employee near the door said “You get her out of here, now!,” slamming the door shut.
I noticed that Toni was staring at Emily with a very serious look on her face. Toni whispered into my ear, “She isn’t drunk. We should get out of here.”
I replied, “But, shouldn’t we help her? She’s really messed up. We can’t leave her here to die.”
Toni begrudgingly said “Alright, but let’s make this quick.”
We each got on one side and carried Emily along with us down the block, where we came across a security guard standing in front of a parking structure. I stopped and asked the guard if they could help. I explained that we didn’t know what was wrong with her, but that she needed attention, and possibly a ride to the hospital. The guard looked at me like I was stupid. Toni gave her a shrug. The guard then re-focused on Emily. She reached into Emily’s backpack, rifled around a bit, and pulled out an ID card. The guard then said “I’ll take care of this and get her an ambulance. You can go on your way.”
Toni started pulling me along, as I said “thank you” to the guard.
As we were all walking, I asked Antoinette, “What did you mean when you said she wasn’t drunk? Is there something going on that we don’t know about?”
Toni just said, “There’s a lot of strange things going on around here that you don’t want to know about. And neither do I.”
My friends kind of laughed, and we moved along. We had some drinks and got back into the celebratory mood.
Chris mentioned that he had been wanting to check out one of the New Orleans cemeteries that he had read about. Toni did not look enthused.
But, Chris was already in motion. He walked over to one of the police officers who were standing guard, and asked “Hey, do you know where the closest cemetery is?”
The officer looked him dead in the eye and stared for a few seconds. Then… And no, this is not a joke, even though it sounds like a bad slasher movie line… He said, “There’s one just a few blocks over that way, but you don’t want to be going down there.”
Chris smirked. “Why not?”
The officer replied, (And again, he really said this. It’s not just a cheesy line from a horror movie.) “They don’t really like your kind over there.”
I have to be honest. I was kind of freaked out by this interaction. And Toni wasn’t looking happy.
Chris said, “Come on, nothing’s going to happen. This isn’t a horror movie.”
After a long sigh, I replied, “I guess it can’t hurt. I’ve heard that the cemeteries are a sight to see around here.”
We embarked on Chris’ quest, much to the chagrin of the rest of the group.
There was quite a change in the look of the city as we got closer to the cemetery. It went from historic New Orleans chic to… something much less visually appealing. As we drew closer, I started to see and feel eyes on all of us.
As we walked the final stretch to the cemetery entrance, there were at least a dozen people standing on their front porches and in their front yards, looking at us like we were about to do something really stupid.
“We shouldn’t be here,” Toni said quietly.
“Well, we are here, so let’s just be quick about it.” I said.
When we got to the front gate, it was locked. Apparently, visiting hours were over.
“Oh no, I guess we have to leave! Too bad,” said Toni.
Despite our misfortune, we could still see all of the large, creepy and wonderful burial structures through the wrought iron fencing. Because New Orleans is below sea level, bodies are buried above ground. The arrangement of the structures in the cemetery actually looked like a small city. A city of the dead.
The eyes were now piercing the backs of our heads, and we knew something was going to happen if we didn’t get out soon. But, Chris started walking the perimeter of the fencing until he happened upon a crevice big enough for him to try and squeeze through. He told us to follow him. I was hesitant, and Toni was telling me that we need to leave, but I figured a quick adventure inside couldn’t hurt. We’d be gone in a few minutes, not even enough time for police to arrive and catch us. So, we all squeezed through, one by one.
It was getting pretty dark now, and this was really starting to feel wrong. I was just waiting for the doors to start opening and the dead to come out and greet us.
I decided I was done with this place, and said to Chris, “Alright, we’re going back. This is just disrespectful, and the locals obviously don’t want us here.”
He shot back, “Scared, huh?”
I ignored him.
We all squeezed back out, one at a time. Toni went just before me, and I was the last one out. I had a feeling like someone else was behind me, even though I was the last one. Before going through, I looked behind me… And I could swear that in the darkness, the door on one of the structures looked like it was sliding open. I could even hear the faint sound of a cement block scraping across the ground. I’m sure it was just my imagination, but this made me decide to get the heck out of there with the quickness.
We walked silently at a much quicker pace back to the more populated downtown area. The noise and lights in the French Quarter seemed to welcome us home.
------------------------------
Tuesday. Mardi Gras. Carne Vale. A Farewell… To The Flesh. Today, the streets were twice as crowded as they had been the night before. This was the big day. Tons of new tourists filled the streets, to the point that we literally couldn’t even walk on Bourbon Street. We attempted to, but got stuck in the crowd like someone had tried to fit 100 crayons into a box that was only meant for 50. If anything happened here, we simply wouldn’t be able to move or get out of the way. For the rest of the day, we stuck to the side streets.
As the parades carried on, it became more and more difficult to even go anywhere else, as they were blocking the streets, and thus blocking any way for us to go in the direction that we wanted.
At this point, we kind of gave up and decided “If we can’t beat ‘em, we join ‘em.”
“Let’s just go watch one of the parades,” I said.
The others were indifferent. We all grabbed drinks and walked toward one of the main streets of the city as nightfall was beginning to close in on us.
On our walk, we came upon some sort of dance troupe in the street. There were probably a dozen people in the troupe, all dressed in dark red, tribal looking outfits. Along with their dance, a few played hand drums, and they were all singing in what may have been French. I couldn’t understand what they were saying, though. At some point, the woman in front who appeared to be the leader of the troupe caught my eye and stared with a look as if she was not happy to see me. I saw her look over at Antoinette, then avert her gaze as if she had been caught.
“Let’s go,” said Toni.
As we walked away, I looked back and saw that the woman was staring again, with the same unhappy look on her face.
A few minutes later into our walk, we started to see ahead down the street where it was looking more and more congested with people, to the point of it looking like the main floor of a sold-out rock show. I wondered how these people could deal with being so compressed together.
Toni spoke up.
“We want to stay away from anything that crowded,” she said.
The rest of us agreed.
I said, “Well, let’s just get a little closer. We don’t have to get right in the pit, but I do want to see what’s so exciting over there.”
We kept walking.
As we got closer, something started to seem a bit more clear. Not all of the people were making noise because they were having fun. Some of the merry-making noises turned out to be screams.
As we moved closer, despite Antoinette’s objections, I noticed a small huddle of people in the center. Someone was on the ground. I hurried up to the circle and pushed my way to the inside. What I saw there left me frozen in my tracks. There were two people. One was laying on their back, motionless. The other… was on their knees, hovering over the one on the ground, and it looked… like they were eating their face. Blood was spewing everywhere while gawkers screamed in terror.
Toni grabbed my arm from behind and said “I told you, we have to go!” She pulled at my arm, but I couldn’t avert my gaze from what was happening. Eventually, she pulled hard enough that I lost balance, sort of fell over, then got back up and started retreating with her.
When we got back outside of the circle, we saw that there was another of the exact same scene happening maybe 20 feet away from us in another direction.
“What is happening?!” I screamed.
Then, the first circle we saw was dispersing rapidly as the flesh eater abandoned their meal and started seeking dessert in the crowd. Just like that, another was incapacitated on the ground, becoming seconds.
But there was something else that I noticed while the thing was rising to look for its next victim… It was Emily, the girl who followed us the previous night.
Toni told us that we were going to need to get to her place. As we began running, there were more and more of these things attacking and eating others. Where were they all coming from?
If this wasn’t horrifying enough, I then received the answer to my question. Some of the flesh eaters were missing faces themselves. Just bone, blood and remnants of skin where their faces used to be. And they were using these skeletal faces to eat those of others.
They weren’t ‘coming from’ anywhere. They were being created by the other flesh eaters. As one walked away from their meal, I saw the body of their victim rise and begin chasing their own mark.
I was transfixed on this horrific, spontaneous public meltdown of society happening right before our eyes, when I was suddenly thrust to the ground with great force. I never saw it coming.
I had no idea what was happening. I eventually focused, and realized that I had one of these faceless flesh eaters hovering over me. Blood was dripping from their jowls onto my face. I knew it was all over for me.
Before I could even scream, Antoinette suddenly appeared face to face with the creature hovering over me. Except, she looked different. Her eyes were blood red, and she appeared to have a large set of fang-like teeth protruding from her open mouth.
She used one hand to pick up the creature, bringing it face to face with her. She stared directly into its eyes and let out a guttural, terrifying sound like I’ve ever heard. Whatever this was… The creature was afraid of Toni. She dropped it, and it scrambled off immediately.
She looked at me with her new face and shouted, “Get up and follow me. They won’t touch you now.”
We ran behind her the rest of the way, tears in my eyes as I tried to figure out what was happening.
When we got to her place, Toni locked the doors, and then shook some sort of liquid out of a bottle onto the floor in front of each of the doorways and windows.
“This won’t be over until morning,” she said. Her face was back to normal now.
We all stayed together in the living room that night. I knew that Toni would keep us safe.
When daylight broke, she alerted us that it should be safe now, but that we needed to leave the city and go home immediately. We piled into her car so that she could drive us back to ours at the hotel.
As we drove, I noticed that the streets were now empty, save for what appeared to be clean-up crews picking up the aftermath. Some were power washing the ground where there appeared to be dark stains. There were no bodies, and no flesh eaters out seeking breakfast, from what I could see. We were all dead silent for the entire drive, focused on what was happening outside our windows.
Toni turned on the radio to a news station, and they were reporting that several people had died in what they called “parade float accidents” the prior day.
As Toni said goodbye to us, she hugged me and put a note in my pocket.
I haven’t had the courage to read it yet.
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